


The Art of Forgiveness

by GrumpyBox



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Angst, Gen, Slow Burn, he will learn to love himself in this fic, i don't know how to make a happy fic, that's right i paired my baby boi with himself, the burn will be slow, there will be a lot of heartbreak in this, there will probably be some surprise characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22351138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyBox/pseuds/GrumpyBox
Summary: Plot: After millions of years of war, Optimus Prime decides to finally settle down and accepts an invitation to join the Lost Light. Believing he can rekindle the spark that once existed between himself and Megatron, he accepts. Sadly, the former gladiator has moved on and now the prime is stuck on a ship in the middle of space with his former love and their current lover. It's ok though....Pharma can help.Inspired by a post from @meteorcrab on tumblr: What if Optimus and Pharma tried to make Megatron and Ratchet jealous by pretending to be in a relationship.The burn will be slow with this one....and painful
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet, Megatron/Optimus Prime, Megatron/Ultra Magnus, Optimus/Pharma, Pharma/Ratchet, Rodimus/Rodimus (Transformers), Rodimus/Thunderclash
Comments: 23
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Yes, the title is a Maria Mena song and it fits this fic so well.

“This is stupid,” Optimus scrubbed his servo down his exposed faceplate and stared out of his berthroom window into the endless expanse of space. The Xartax Nebulae was so beautiful this time of year. Once a year, a wave of spectral dust from the eastern region of the galaxy flowed through the nebulae and caused a chemical reaction that resulted in the stars flashing vibrant, stunning colors. The display reminded him of the Christmas trees he would see on Earth whenever he visited the Witwicky family, however, there were no gifts awaiting him underneath the vibrant glow of these stars. Just a giant lump of coal where his spark should be.

“Think about it Prime,” Pharma cooed from the armchair he was lounging in.The twisted doctor sipped on a flute of triple distilled energon, his legs draped over the side of the chair and his wings were spread invitingly behind him. “We both want the same things...well, not the SAME same things but, you know what I mean. Remember what it felt like… to be _betrayed_.”

“He didn’t betray me,”Optimus tried to convince Pharma, or perhaps himself. He couldn’t tell at this point, everything just felt numb. “He didn’t betray me,” he said quieter.

“Oh no, you’re right Prime,”Pharma growled as he deposited the rest of his drink into his intake. “Betray doesn’t even come close to encompassing all that we’ve suffered at their servos.” Pharma poured himself another drink and swirled the bright pink concoction before his optics. “They _violated_ our trust, they _abandoned_ the love that we gave to them freely and lept blindly into the _undeserving_ arms of another. We toiled and strained ourselves under the burden of their expectations and they just throw all of our hard work back in our faces? They aren’t even ashamed of themselves, it’s like they’re mocking us!”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore Pharma,”Optimus had intended on sounding firm in his conviction, but the words that left his intake were weak and fragile...like himself. 

“Please Prime,” Optimus didn’t know when Pharma had gotten so close to him, but the weight of the medic’s servo seemed to pull him out of his depressed state. Optimus stared down into the icy blue optics of the mech beside him. The plan was stupid, asinine, a horrible disaster waiting to happen. If either of the offending parties found out what was going on, and they would find out, it would mean game over for both Optimus and Pharma.

“I just… I just don’t know,”Optimus sighed, angry with himself for his inability to make a decision right then and there. They both deserved it for what they had done to Optimus and Pharma, it was downright cruel. But could he, the prime, the matrix-bearer, truly stoop so low.

“Just… let me know if you change your mind...” 

  
  
  


_Two days earlier_

“Are you sure about this?” Bumblebee asked for what must have been the hundredth time. The minibot was struggling to move one of the heavier boxes out of the spacious office.

“I’m certain old friend,”Optimus chuckled as he lifted the box out of the yellow mech’s servos.

“Hey! I ain’t an ‘old friend’, just because I have a limp and walk around with a cane and yell at new forges to get off of my lawn-” 

“I’m going to miss your sense of humor Bumblebee,” Optimus sighed as he placed the last box onto the trolley. He turned back towards his now vacant office and smiled as the setting sun turned the shade of the room from a cool gray to a deep amber.

“You don’t have to go you know,” Bumblebee tried again as he reached for Optimus’ arm. “You can stay here you know, and if that’s too stressful for you then pull a Soundwave and buy a planet.” Optimus could hardly contain his laughter at the quip and pulled his longtime friend into a deep hug.

“This might be good for me Bumblebee,” Optimus stated after a long time, “I know it won’t be easy, being around him, but the experience as a whole...Ratchet will be there. I’ll have friends. People who want the same thing that I do, people who just want to be free from this...this-”

“Neverending pain because you were a part of a perpetual war that destroyed your planet and now your species will never heal from it? Yeah, I get it Prime. Really I do, but we still need you here. I know it’s selfish to ask, I know that you’ve been through so much and have had to give up so much of yourself as prime but please Optimus? We really really need you.” 

  
  


“I’m so sorry Bumblebee,”Optimus whispered, “I’m so sorry for being selfish.”

  
  
  


Optimus wasn’t sorry.

He had spent far too long being sorry. He had lost the love of his life to events that were out of his control, had led an army into a neverending war against said love, watched as nearly all of his closest friends died horrible deaths due to the war, and had to shoulder the responsibility of his planet’s death alone. 

  
  


Optimus hated being alone.

When he was exiled from Cybertron by the NAILs, he had spent eons alone traversing the galaxy trying to find some place where he was wanted...where he was needed. When he had finally returned home, Optimus felt out of place, like a relic. After so many years of war, of being the voice of the primes and leader of millions, he was no longer needed. The people no longer needed a prime to guide them, they had a government for that. Optimus Prime was just a reminder of a past everyone wanted to move forward from. So, when Rodimus offered him the opportunity to join him on yet another expedition into space, Optimus could find no reason to refuse. Besides, everyone aboard the Lost Light had found a family in each other...perhaps he could find one too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter about Pharma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic will diverge from canon slightly in terms of events involving Pharma. Pharma still lost his servos to Ratchet, however, he doesn’t get possessed by some ancient Prime. After the events with the Judge Tyrest, Pharma escapes and is not killed by First Aid.

“This is a historic moment for the people of Cybertron,” Rodimus began. The young prime had insisted on delivering a final send-off speech before departing from Cybertron. Millions of people, Autobots, Decepticons, and civilians alike gathered together to listen and watch the Prime’s speech. It wasn’t necessarily because Rodimus Prime was a great orator, but for the fact that no one had seen Optimus Prime and Megatron stand side by side peacefully in over 4 million years. Pharma grimaced as he once again skimmed the crowd and still, after over an hour, could not find the medic’s trademark red helm. It had been torture for him, listening to the hot-helmed prime’s speech and hearing the “oohs” and “aahhs” of the adoring and ignorant crowd. The mech spoke of his newest quest as if it were some life-altering journey that would change the very fabric of their being. Pfft, please. Isn’t that what the prime wanted to do with his “Quest for Cyberutopia”? All they had accomplished was finding out that Cyberutopia was, as everyone had thought, a myth and that the lost moon had a bunch of sparks on it. Pharma pushed past some of the mechs and femmes in front of him, itching to get closer to the stage. He ignored the glares they cast him, he could care less about these affronted nobodies, all that he wanted to do was find his medic. Finally, Pharma caught glimpse of the Autobot’s former CMO and his vents stilled. Ratchet was standing behind Optimus Prime on the left-hand side of the stage. The medic had changed his paint job from his trademark red to a gleaming white with red accents. Ratchet’s cool blue optics gleamed as Rodimus Prime continued his speech, and a warm smile graced his handsome faceplate. 

“There you are,” Pharma whispered to himself, “my favorite medic.”

  
  


Pharma closed the last clasp on his briefcase and surveyed his motel room. He had been cooped up in this shabby place for weeks, it was one of those half run-down buildings on the east side of Iacon that had somehow managed to be deemed habitable. Pharma was told upon arriving that the government was still doing development in that area and it would be finished soon. He knew it was a lie. East Iacon was where the Decepticon ghettos were located, and despite Windblade’s best efforts to appease the people she was no Starscream. She held no loyalties here. As much as Pharma hated the Decepticons, he couldn’t help it as a twinge of remorse wormed its way into his spark. All that he had lost in the war was for nothing. He had seen this play out too many times. A mech with good intentions would try to rise to a position of power only to have it consume them. Windblade would fall like those who came before her, and he didn’t want to be there to watch her demise. The sins of this world were too great and everyone fell to its vices...all except Ratchet. Despite everything, Ratchet still managed to hold to his principles even if it put him in harm’s way. In a world where everyone was drowning in a sea of their own sins, Ratchet rose above the waves and soared. When Pharma heard that the Lost Light was returning to the stars, he begged Ultra Magnus to let him on the coveted roster. He wore a facade of complete humility and regret before the former Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest accord. However, his affirmation did not come from the Lost Light’s Second in Command, it came from the object of his cruel affections himself. It came from Ratchet.

“I remember who you were before,”Ratchet sighed as he placed his servo,  _ Pharma’s old servo _ , on Pharma’s shoulder. “You were a good person, a good doctor. Sometimes....sometimes good people lose their way, and they just need the opportunity to find it. It’s a duty we owe not to ourselves, but to each other.”

How many surgeries had Ratchet performed with his servos?

  
  


How many times had those servos touched Ratchet’s cheeks?

  
  


How many times had Ratchet held his servos over his spark?

  
  


Pharma couldn’t help but daydream about how good it would feel to have those servos pressed against him once more. Holding him. Caressing him. Loving him.

  
  
  
  
  


Little did Pharma know that those servos were now holding another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so fun building up characters just so you can tear them down in the end.
> 
> Also this chapter was super hard for me to write. I've never written Pharma before so please if you have any feedback to give let me know. I wanted to make him a little more twisted but I've never written someone like him before so I didn't know if it would be out of character or not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus Prime joins the crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I hope you all are staying safe out there. Remember to was you hands often and cover your mouth when you cough and sneeze. You'd think this would be basic stuff that everyone knows but I've been surprised by the number of people who didn't know sneezing directly into the palm of your hand isn't sanitary. This virus has really affected me in a ways that I didn't expect. My college graduation has essentially been cancelled and my university won't give refunds for caps and gowns so...yeah. I know that a lot of people have it a lot worse and my heart goes out to everyone in the affected areas. I met a girl from Wuhan a few weeks ago and it was so hard for her to talk about this issue. I can't imagine what it's like being in a foreign country and your family is quarantined in their homes on the other side of the world. To all you university students who are international and trying to cope with this without the support of your families I'm praying for you guys. 
> 
> Once again, stay safe guys and I hope this chapter lifts your spirits a little bit.

Rodimus was fidgeting.

Optimus had known the sportscar long enough to know when he was feeling anxious, typically this anxiety was caused by some secret he was struggling to withhold. 

“Are you alright captain?” Megatron queried from his end of the table. The former warlord was seated across from Optimus on Rodimus’ left-hand side with a large datapad in his servos. He had been absent-mindedly scrolling through it for the entirety of the meeting before he addressed his captain. Optimus had assumed that the contents of said datapad were of great importance, however, he couldn’t help the feeling pressing against his spark that there was another reason the ex-gladiator was fixated on the device. A reason that was seated directly across from the silver mech. 

“I’m fine Megs,” Rodimus huffed as he began tapping his digit against the edge of the table, “...Co-Captain,” Rodimus added after glancing over at Optimus.

  
  


“Co-Captain?” Optimus looked between the two present mechs for an explanation of the term.

“Yeah?” Rodimus responded with an equally confused look. “Co-Captain...as in co-captain of this ship...the Lost Light?”

“Co-captain isn’t a rank though.” 

Rodimus went rigid and Megatron suddenly lost interest in his datapad and stared directly at the elder prime. The silence that weighed on the room was dense and began to press upon Optimus’ tanks, warning him that a very long and possibly migraine inducing conversation was about to commence.

“Optimus,” Rodimus stated in a voice so grave Optimus hardly recognized it as the young prime’s, “when you told me that Megatron was to join us for our quest for the Knights of Cybertron, you stated that he was to be my co-captain.” 

“Yes,” Optimus drawled out. The piercing glare that Rodimus sent his way did little to ease his churning tanks. Megatron’s growing smirk nearly made him purge.

“You said,” Rodimus continued, “that he was to be my co-captain aboard this ship.” The temperature in the room seemed to increase a few degrees with the speedster’s final statement. Optimus looked between him and a now cheesily grinning Megatron in a futile effort to comprehend where exactly this conversation was headed.

“Rodimus,” Optimus responded against his better judgement, “that was a joke.” 

The silence was deafening.

  
  
  
  


Or at least it would have been if Megatron hadn’t broken out into a fit of hysterical laughter. Rodimus was fuming and looked like he was about to go full Prowl on the table as Megatron did little to contain his mirth. Tears of joy streaked down the warlord’s faceplate as he banged his fist against the table and struggled to in-vent.

“You said,” Rodimus was barely screaming, “that he was to be co-captain of this vessel and all of the duties of a co-captain were to be bestowed upon him.” 

“I did Rodimus,”Optimus wasn’t sure if he was holding his servos up to placate the angry mech or to shield his own face, “but that was a joke Rodimus. I- I was joking, I thought you’d realized that. Co-captain isn’t a real thing, Megatron had no power to….you made him co-captain of your ship!? He was supposed to be your prisoner!” At this point, Megatron was wheezing and looked like he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Whatever sense of control Rodimus was holding onto went flying out the window, and the racecar began assaulting his so-called “co-captain” with a slew of profanities that even made Optimus Prime blush. This was the scene that Ultra Magnus walked in on. His former leader, his current leader, and current co-leader squabbling around a table like a bunch of new-sparks.

“Is everything alright here?” Ultra Magnus politely knocked on the doorframe leading into the conference room. Megatron, for a few short seconds, caught his breath and reached out towards Ultra Magnus’ forearm.

“Y-you haha, you won’t believe what just happened.” Megatron laughed as he wiped wiper-fluid from his optics. As Megatron began explaining the situation to Ultra Magnus and Rodimus continued his profane rant, something caught Optimus’ attention. Megatron’s servo never left Ultra Magnus’ forearm as the mech began to take his seat at the table. The two never broke optic contact with one another and Ultra Magnus leaned in closer to Megatron even as Rodimus’ screaming began to die down. They were both smiling as Megatron described how he first felt when Optimus had first suggested the insulting title and how neither he nor Rodimus realized it was a joke…

Ultra Magnus was smiling.

  
  


“You two have certainly gotten close.”Once again the room had gotten so quiet that a pin could drop and the sound of it would ricochet off of the walls. Megatron immediately released his hold of Ultra Magnus and returned the offending servo to his datapad. Rodimus went rigid in his seat as his optics darted between the left and right hand sides of the room. Ultra Magnus cleared his throat cables and reset his faceplate to its neutral default.

“Yes sir,” Ultra Magnus responded after some time, realizing that no one planned on speaking anytime soon. “We have all gotten the opportunity to become acquainted with one another during our expedition. As Rodimus stated in his earlier speech, we have grown not just in our friendships but as a family. I personally have learned what it means to ‘have fun’ and have finally gotten around to having that stick looked at.”

“What stick?” Optimus asked as his earlier discomfort began to dissipate.

“The one everyone said was lodged up my aft.” Ultra Magnus chuckled as he stood up from his seat and extended a servo across the table to the Prime. Optimus offered his servo in return and Ultra Magnus clasped it tightly. “We are all excited to have you aboard the Lost Light sir, but not because you’re a prime, or the matrix-bearer, or some saviour of Cybertron. We are excited because we now get to know you for the person that you truly are and can allow you into our family. You, like the rest of us, get a chance at living a peaceful life, and have chosen us to take that journey with you. We… I am so happy for you… my friend.”

“T-thank you Ultra Magnus,” Optimus struggled to maintain control of his vocalizer as he fought against the hot tears that threatened to leak through his optics. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

“Of course Optimus,” Ultra Magnus smiled once again as he retook his seat next to Megatron,” now let’s go over your duties aboard the Lost Light.”

The crew had a lot of say in how the ship was run and maintained, or at least, more say than Optimus had first anticipated since Megatron was “co-captain” and Ultra Magnus was… well Ultra Magnus. Apparently, the members of the Lost Light had high standards for the education of their crew and held lectures four days out of the week. Brainstorm taught theoretical science, Perceptor taught actual science, Ratchet started teaching basic first aid, and Megatron taught history and literature. Besides these lectures there were other courses the crew could sign up for: Cyclonus taught primal vernacular, Roller and Velocity had a music class that they taught together every other week, and Whirl had even started a clock-making class. The Lost Light crew had decided that despite the variety of courses at their disposal, there was something missing aboard their ship. The crew had then voted it Optimus’ responsibility to find what was missing and fill that void.

“And what of the command staff,” Optimus queried. Rodimus immediately straightened himself in his seat and turned to address the elder prime.

“Our command staff is perfectly adequate,” Rodimus stated sharply.

“I’m not trying to usurp your authority in any way,” Optimus responded,”I merely mean that… well, I’m used to being put in positions of authority or where my skills can be of a greater asset to those around me.”

“Your purpose on this ship is to relax,” Megatron interjected, “you’ve served Cybertron for a very long period of time and we want you to have the opportunity to rest. If there is ever a need for you within the command staff you will be contacted, but for now just enjoy the time that you have off from your duties. Besides,” Megatron smirked, “there are a lot of bots who are looking forward to meeting you.”

  
  


Optimus was hoping to be free of formalities once he boarded the Lost Light, but the life of a prime was never lacking in glamour and despite his best efforts he found himself in the middle of Swerve’s with a glass of high grade in one servo and an overly enthusiastic handshake in the other. Another one of the Lost Light’s charms was their ability to celebrate anything, and according to multiple bots Optimus had encountered as he entered the bar, the arrival of “the Optimus Prime” was an event deserving of a grand celebration. Swerve had even put up a banner with the words “Optimus Prime we choose you!” written on it in big bold letters. Optimus smiled as politely as possible at the small waste disposal bot who kept shaking his hand with a vigor a bot his size shouldn’t possess. Optimus was especially mindful of his composure since the tiny blue mech was seated in the lap of one of the most dangerous Decepticons Optimus had ever met.

“Isn’t this amazing Cyclonus!” Tailgate, Optimus believed that was his name, squealed as he refused to stop squeezing the Prime’s servo. “Optimus Prime- the Optimus Prime- is sitting right here in Swerve’s...with us! The most legendary figure in Cybertronian history is joining our crew, Thunderclash is going to have some competition!”

“I’ve heard some amazing things about you my friend,” Optimus said as he lowered his battle mask and cast the miniformer the most charming smile he could muster. “I’ve been told that you defeated Judge Tyrest with only a poke to the head?” The hand-shaking ceased immediately at that, Optimus looked down at the now trembling servo and back at the mech who possessed it. “A-are you alright? I didn’t mean to-”

“You’ve heard stories about me?” static was beginning to ooze out of Tailgate’s optics.

“Y-yes I have. Good stories I might add. I didn’t mean to trouble you I-”

“No no i-it’s fine,” Tailgate laughed nervously, “it’s just… w-who’s been telling you stuff about me? I-I mean if they’re telling you good stuff then that’s not too bad. Unless they told you about the bomb. I mean I did diffuse it but I also lied about being in bomb disposal. Or that time I killed half of Deathsaurus’ fleet single-servoed. I mean, it’s true but also a lot of bad stuff happened afterwards and I nearly died and-”

“You killed half of Deathsaurus’ fleet!” Optimus’ optics flew wide open at this remark.

“What? Yes. No. I mean mostly. I-” 

“Tailgate,” Cyclonus interjected before the mech could begin rambling again, “perhaps we should give the prime an opportunity to converse with other members of the crew?” 

“Huh. Oh yes right!”Tailgate replied as the static died down from his optics. “E-enjoy the party Optimus Prime! There are a lot of great people to talk to here, like Chromedome and Rewind- oh wait, you already know them- or Blaster - oh you know him too- or Rodi-”

“Good evening Prime,”Cyclonus called over his shoulder as he dragged his conjunx away from the flustered prime. When Ratchet told him that the minicon had “poked Tyrest to death”, Optimus had assumed that the medic was kidding. But to hear that he had attempted so many other feats-

“Killed half of Deathsaurus’crew….”

Perhaps his expedition aboard the Lost Light would not be as peaceful as he first thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly. We are approaching the core plot of this fic slowly.
> 
> Also please leave a comment down below. I love hearing from you guys.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharma thinks about Ratchet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so it's been a looooong time since I touched this fic. I can't promise regular updates, I just needed a break from my other fics because they're really dark and this one isn't nearly as gritty. The world has just been...a mess lately and I think we all need some mushy Pharma feelings to feel better about all of the madness happening around us.

He’d been scouring the Lost Light for hours and still couldn’t find him. Pharma scrubbed his borrowed servo down his faceplate as he pondered where his beloved medic could be. He had never penned Ratchet as an elusive mech. Pharma was not permitted into the medbay- First Aid’s orders- but after about half an hour of screwing with the wiring of the medbay lock he finally snuck his way past the med staff’s defenses. Pharma thought he was being especially stealthy, that was until a femme named Velocity found him behind a cart full of anesthetics. After much pleading, he had convinced the femme of not disclosing his whereabouts to Ultra Magnus and First Aid. She was kind enough to tell him that his beloved was retired and only visited the medbay occasionally. Today, he was not one of those days. 

“Where do you think my dear Ratchet might be?” Pharma drawled in his most charming tone of voice.

“I don’t know,” Velocity scowled at the seeker,”why don’t you ask his conjunx.”

  
  


Pharma knew that Camiens were gifted in the arts, but that femme was a true comedian. He still found himself swiping wiper fluid away from his optics.  _ Ask his conjunx _ . What a novel concept! If there was one thing that Pharma knew about Ratchet, it was that his beloved medic struggled with relationships. That’s the only reason why Pharma had never proposed the idea of bonding when the two were in med school together. His Ratchet had a soft spark and he protected it with a hardened exterior. To bond meant to be vulnerable, and Ratchet knew that his spark wasn’t strong enough to be broken...Pharma knew it too. For years, Pharma fought against the urge to drop to his knees before the mech and beg Ratchet to bond with him. He had told himself that just to be near him would be enough. Just being close to the mech had been enough...that was until Ratchet had left without saying goodbye. Then Pharma was transferred to Delphi. Then Tarn happened.

“Conjunxes…” Pharma whispered to himself as he allowed the thought to fester in his mind. No... just being close would be enough. That’s all Pharma needed from the mech. Just the chance to be close again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pharma is hard to write. Please tell me if I did him justice.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this fic guys! Leave a comment, I love hearing from you!!!!


End file.
